


melancholy feels just like me

by radicalvodkaaunt



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 14:21:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10439592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radicalvodkaaunt/pseuds/radicalvodkaaunt
Summary: Aaron doesn't know how to speak or love or breathe. And then that changes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is based off of the word prompt and then the celebratory kiss one came in also i love this prompt project thing so thank you for making it !!! also this takes place at the beginning of this (2016/17) season when life was good and i wouldn't rec u read this is youre a chelsea fan lmao. Anyway title is taken from Bit by a Dead Bee Pt. II by Foxing (go listen to it... an amazing song+band that i highly recommend) and i hope y'all enjoy :)

_“Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us._  
These, our bodies, possessed by light.  
Tell me we’ll never get used to it. 

Aaron hated mornings sometimes. He hated the glaring light and the responsibilities he awoke to and sometimes he hated breathing. But he opened his eyes and stretched his arms over his head and breathed in the musty air of a bed sheets that don’t get washed enough. It was another day, nothing new would happen just as nothing new had happened any other day since the moment he got his dead end job in a dying industry. He worshipped his everyday routine like a god, every moment he spent awake he sacrificed himself to this ever present and nagging ethereal being.

Stale cereal greeted him every morning. Even when it was a new box, the fact he’d been eating the same damn thing every morning for too many years to remember left a stale taste in his mouth. Aaron used to dream of a big house and a beautiful wife cooking him breakfast every morning. Now he’s lucky if he’s able to pay the rent on time, he’s happy with one night stands with whoever the hell will take him. Light beams from dirty windows burn hot on Aaron’s back as he reads the sports news on his phone and his newest roommate makes his way in.

A few months ago, after Aaron’s paycheck had been cut for the third time, he realised he couldn’t afford to live in solitude any longer. It was a pain in his ass to find someone good enough, and apparently, _he_ was insufferable to live with, seeing that in four months he was on his fifth flatmate. This one had moved in only a week ago, and so far, since he officially made himself at home (Aaron doesn’t remember giving anyone permission to spread sentimental photos in the empty areas where his own would be put if he had worthwhile memories to be framed… Aaron put the three frames facedown until the other got the message and stored them in his room) Aaron has spoken perhaps six words to him. Maybe seven, but that’s probably pushing it.

It’s not that Aaron had any agenda against his flatmate, whose name he could not remember to save his life, by the way. It was only that he liked his privacy, he enjoyed silence and he needed his space. What he didn’t want was strangers entering his flat, people taking over his property with items that didn’t belong there, and, to be honest, he didn’t appreciate too much happiness, it felt like showing off to Aaron. Maybe he was just growing old and cynical, maybe he shouldn’t yell at his flatmates for just trying to have a few drinks with friends in peace. Maybe he just doesn’t give a fuck about other people.

Anyway, apart from the photo fiasco, his new roommate had been perfectly fine. A little loud, a little talkative at times, but they supported the same football teams and that made him good enough. There was another thing that got someone kicked out, the moment Aaron saw the blue and white of something Spurs related, that person was gone. Oliver? Was that his name? Had laughed at that story when Aaron had relayed it to him as a ground rule before he had moved in. His laugh was loud and obnoxious, but he decided to let that slide for once. Maybe it would bring a sense of joy to a place void of such a thing.

“Good morning,” a voice floated through the crisp air of an unheated apartment, and Olivier was his name. French, of course, how could Aaron forget that. As someone with so little to do, it surely should be easier to remember tiny details such as a person’s damn name. Maybe he should make an effort with this guy. But then that requires a level of caring Aaron wasn’t sure he was capable of. It wasn’t that he was totally apathetic, only that he’d rather sit and sulk over his unlived-life rather than fuss over frivolous details. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try, maybe the anxiety of trying to find the right words was a good enough reason not to.

“You ever thought of getting a coffee machine?” Olivier spoke again, forcing Aaron to realize he hadn’t responded to him previously, although he didn’t seem to mind either. Aaron rolled his eyes at the question, as if Olivier, the naïve little student, would understand that a coffee machine is a luxury for the upper middle class only. The sound of the kettle fills the room, relieving the silence as once again Aaron responds in mind instead of speech.

There’s an easy lull between them however as Olivier sits opposite Aaron, who looks at him with tired eyes. Aaron knew the moment they met that this man was going to be one of the most beautiful he’d ever be able to lay eyes on the moment he saw him. He had a face better than that of an angel from Heaven and a body sculpted by the gods. Aaron had been less than subtle in staring as Olivier had walked between shower and his new room, towel wrapped around his waist and water droplets trailing off his body in the purest form water could be in, holy water itself would have more impurities. That sight definitely helped Aaron to tolerate the other’s impeaching behaviour.

“You’re a quiet one, hey?” Olivier chuckled, breaking Aaron out of his fuzzy stare, pale skin blushing red, something he didn’t appreciate, but he didn’t look away. Maybe he was encapsulated by the others beauty, perhaps he realised the other had been staring right back, and Aaron wasn’t going to let that slide. He liked to believe he spoke a lot more articulately through body language rather than speech. 

However, Aaron shrugged, speaking for the first time that morning, “Don’t have much to say,” he replied in a solemn tone that would bring the average person’s mood down. Olivier just grinned as if he’d won the battle without any bloodstains on his face. Aaron smiled too, although maybe it was more of a grimace.

Aaron sighed, placing his bowl in the sink with no intention to wash it up, he could feel eyes following his every movement, but he decided it was best not to say anything. “We’ll see about that.” The voice spoke lowly. For some reason, it felt like a threat.

-

Aaron barely listens to the drone of pundits emitting from his tv, though the excitement of the beginning of a new season was still hitting him. Maybe they would win the league, get further than the round of 16 in the Champions League, perhaps Arsenal just won’t embarrass him for once. It was an exciting prospect, a new season. It was like getting born again, being cleansed of all previous sins as to start a fresh. One thing Aaron didn’t expect in this new beginning was someone actually being around to watch the games with him.

“Mind if I join you?” Oli, he’d said it was okay to call him Oli, asked from behind the sofa. Aaron hadn’t realised he’d been stood there, he hopes that his worries over the starting lineup that he muttered openly weren’t heard, he didn’t want to be labelled as weird. Either way, he dropped his legs from where he’d been lying across the sofa and thought about how it might be a good idea to invest in some new furniture now he wasn’t living alone.

“You don’t have any friends to watch with?” Aaron asks as Oli sits down closer than he had been expected, not that he minded that much. It felt nice to have another presence in the house, in fact. It brought new smells and noises and feelings, and Aaron wasn’t completely opposed to all those things.

Oli laughed. He laughed at a lot of things, most of which tended not to be funny. It brought warmth to Aaron’s shivering bones. “Back in the tragic days of university dorms, it was just me and the illegal streams,” Aaron chuckled quietly at the thought of it as Oli continued, “Am I gonna have to pay for my sports now?”

Aaron shrugged, turning from the Tv in the final moments before kick-off, just to see Oli was looking straight back at him, “I’ll make sure to add it to your bill,” he replied nonchalantly. His heart didn’t feel nonchalant. Oli smiles and his whole face emits light like nothing Aaron has ever seen. The sun had a fight on its hands to see who possesses the most light in the gaps between bones and fire.

“Guess I shouldn’t have said anything,” and the sound of a whistle coming through tinny speakers shakes Aaron out of his impossible dream, and suddenly his anxiety for the game is multiplied by his anxieties of the person sitting next to him. He feels like a volcano on the brink of eruption, he trembles and rumbles, but he’s not going to overflow yet. He didn’t want to destroy another person’s entire world again.

-

“Fuck Arsenal, fuck football, fuck me!”

Aaron was fuming. He puts too much faith in one team, he feels too much when they lose. Usually he’d yell and punch a wall, and then start laughing at how crazy he is. Sometimes he’d cry. Today all he could do was yell, the last thing he wanted was to scare his newest roommate away, especially since he actually liked this one.

Oli was laughing at Aaron, who had flicked the Tv off and thrown the remote on the floor with a little too much force, not wanting to hear pundits fucking slate Arsenal as they always did. The sound of laughter only pissed Aaron off further, as he slouched into the couch, crossing his arms and preparing to sulk for the rest of the day, “What’s so funny,” he grumbled, wishing he hadn’t turned off the Tv, as much for background noise than anything else. He hates awkward silences, and he can’t distinguish them from the so called comfortable silences.

Oli shook his head, a smile still playing on his lips which could simultaneously stop someone’s heart whilst reviving them at the same time. Not Aaron although, he didn’t see the other in that way, certainly not. “It’s just, I mean we rarely win our opening games,” his smile suggests those are good memories, “It’s just a case of moving on, we’ll win next time.” He pats the top of Aaron’s head like a dog and Aaron rolls his eyes, huffing sarcastically. That mindset is not something Aaron believes he’ll ever be able to maintain.

“Yeah, well I tend to hold grudges.” Aaron mutters, missing the warm pressure of another’s hand on him, only because the flat was cold. Very little light reached the living room, tiny slits of windows spreading thin rays that highlighted the dust particles that floated through the air. It was warm outside, yet still they sat indoors, in the cold and the lowlight. He feels his heartbeat in his chest and a smile on his lips and he doesn’t know which one is more unnatural. In a single moment he’s no longer simply existing but is at home. He doesn’t know what this is.

“At least we signed Xhaka,” Oli resigned, not trying too hard to turn Aaron into a positive thinker. Perhaps they’d balance each other out, a perfect ying-yang, a case of opposites attracting. The thought made Aaron feel sick, but maybe that was just the scoreline of the game. Fuck Liverpool. “He’s a pretty boy, definitely not attesting to his face on screen,” he says, trying to be casual, but Aaron can hear in the way he speaks slightly quicker the statement made him nervous. Aaron hated that his stomach only contracted further.

“You swing that way?” Aaron doesn’t care, of course he doesn’t, he just needs conformation. The last thing he needs is a grey zone, although it seemed fairly obvious what Oli had been trying to say.

“Bi,” he replied, adding on quickly, “That isn’t gonna be a problem right?”

Aaron wanted to laugh, he really did. That’s just what he does when he’s nervous, and instead he shakes his head and smiles softly, “Quite the opposite.” Except it was a problem. A huge one which suddenly made Oli’s proximity give Aaron a nervousness that filtered from his stomach into his bloodstream. Because now Aaron truly believed he may have a chance with Olivier.

-

Aaron knew the moment he smoothed the bleach into his hair, he was going to regret it. But his horoscope had demanded he make a change in his life, and this was the first thing that came to mind, so he went along with it. He fucking hated himself sometimes.

He glares in the mirror, hair still wet, but the shocking, blindingly white dye isn’t dulled down by the water. It’s as if light has control of his entire being all of a sudden, reflecting off of him, bringing attention to all his features, pale skin merging into extremely pale hair. Aaron presses his face into his hands and groans. What has he done?

“Hey,” A knock at the bathroom door and God Aaron misses living alone sometimes. It had been a few weeks since the Liverpool game. Or Oli’s admission, but Arsenal still annoyingly takes precedent above any of Aaron’s ‘real people’ feelings. Sometimes he thought he was going crazy. Since then Arsenal had started winning, there had been no obvious awkwardness in the apartment and Aaron had definitely gone crazy considering what he’s just done to his hair.

Of course the moment after Olivier’s confession Aaron had noticed how attractive he was in hyperactive detail, from his laugh, to his voice and then his body. He thought about kicking him out just for being too perfect, but decided he’d rather enjoy the company and suppress the feelings than deprive himself of the opportunities. He spent hours dreaming of the two of them falling in love and then pretending to be just another one of the lads when around him. It was a weird sense of hot and cold which was sending him into whole new phases of awkwardness that he covered with a lame joke and moved on. All this time Oli seemed to notice nothing, “You coming out any time soon?”

“Never,” Aaron called back childishly, rubbing a towel through his hair as if he could wipe the bleach away. He heard Oli laugh and he just wanted to sink into a hole and never resurface, this was the worst decision of his life.

“I’ll have to piss in the sink if you don’t come out soon,” he replied, Aaron could hear the smirk on his lips as Aaron considered whether he’d look better with a shaved head. There was no winning today. He sighed, throwing the towel on the radiator, and finally unlocking the door even though he wanted to turn around and throw up first. He doesn’t know where this sudden worry of rejection? Need for validation? Came from, but it hit him like a truck as he opened the door to Oli’s shocked expression.

Eyes wide, lip between teeth (fuck) and eyebrows raised, Aaron wanted to run away and never come back. That was until Oli smiled, laughing slightly and speaking in a highly excited voice, “Messi! Oh my God, you’re my favourite footballer, holy shit can we take a selfie!” And Aaron wanted to slap him for taking the mick like that, but also thank him for not making anything awkward of a bad decision.

Aaron pushed Oli’s arm away from where he had his phone out to actually take the selfie, and God he was dumb sometimes. It only made Aaron more attracted to him, “Shut up, you literally hate Barca,” he laughed as Oli shoved his phone into his pocket, grinning wildly, looking only at Aaron’s face, yet he didn’t feel self-conscious anymore.

“Don’t expose me like that, damn,” Oli chuckled, then doing the last thing Aaron expected as he rubbed his fingers into Aaron’s now fluffy hair, tangling his fingers within and Aaron wanted to cry he suddenly felt so warm. They looked each other dead in the eye, as Oli knew what he was doing, as Aaron pretended this meant nothing as his stomach turned flips. “Seriously though, you look good,” his voice has dropped a couple of notches, penetrating Aaron’s ear and sending shivers down his spine, he felt trapped, but he never wanted to leave, “Messi dreams of being as hot as you,” his fingers massage his scalp as nails dig in and he casually pulls at the small knots in his hair. Aaron felt like he was choking.

And suddenly he pulls away with a smile as if nothing had happened, patting Aaron’s shoulder casually then locking the bathroom door. But Aaron is left dumbstruck for a bit, stood still in the corridor until finally his heart stops feeling like it’s about to burst. He also decides he loves his blond hair and he will keep it until his final breaths if that’s what Oli wants.

-

Aaron couldn’t sit still in the hours before the Chelsea match. He went from sitting on the couch to eating in the kitchen, then back to the living room and pacing around the sofa, before forcing himself to sit down again. Of course, Oli found the whole act peculiar, Aaron found it damn weird too, doesn’t mean he can stop it. Oli of course had tried to give him advice. Said advice was shit, ‘it’s only sport’ or ‘a loss doesn’t define the season,’ along with other bull Aaron would never believe. This was life or death, and he could feel the presence of death looming on his shoulder, whispering in his ear that this was the end. Oli would never understand that.

Nothing had changed in the weeks between Aaron dying his hair blond and this awful, awful day. It was just how Aaron expected, an irrelevant moment that meant nothing, a soft gesture at a time where attention was exactly what Aaron needed. It doesn’t mean he didn’t spend his nights lying awake, thinking about what he would have done differently. It felt wrong, the guy was just across the hall and Aaron was thinking of what they would name their apricot cavalier spaniel puppy. (Aaron thought Nara was cute, knowing Oli, he would call her Lexi after fucking Alexis Sanchez) And yet, they continued to laugh and talk as if there was no tension, which made Aaron believe he really was making it all up, so he moved on. Well, only partly, he still can’t help the leap in his chest every time Oli so much as looks at him.

“Come on man, just sit down,” Oli complains as Aaron paces around the sofa for the fourth time. He’d never gotten around to buying a second sofa, he preferred it the way it was anyway. Aaron sits down complacently, though he taps his foot steadily against a wooden floor, a quick beat matching that of his heart, which only sped up as Oli wrapped his arm around his shoulders, pulling him back so he is no longer perched on the edge of his seat, ready to jump up.

Aaron ended up resting against Oli’s side, the arm around him making it impossible to move, not that he would if he could. The whole gesture did the opposite to forcing him to relax, a thrum of electricity coursing through his bones, from his fingertips to toes and he mumbles as he speaks because the last thing he wants is to shock Olivier, “Sorry, I just get stressed,” he said, hand squeezing his shoulder and a soft smile on Oli’s lips, assuring him that its anything other than abnormal.

“Everything will turn out fine mon amie,” Oli replied, removing his arm slowly, and Aaron immediately misses the contact. Not that he’d ever admit that. “Now just believe in your damn team, we’ll stomp those Chelsea bastards into relegation,” he grinned, and Aaron laughed, feeling lighter in the heart, although he still tickled with nerves that were no longer being cause just by the match.

-

The first goal went it in from Alexis, an open goal which sent Aaron into hysterics whilst the Chelsea players walked with heads bowed. “That’s embarrassing for them man, just fucking embarrassing,” Aaron noted joyously, his heart thumping with adrenaline from the goal and nerves that they weren’t in the clear yet. Oli nodded in agreement, sitting back down from when he jumped up in excitement the moment Alexis got hold of the ball. Maybe Aaron would name their future dog Lexi after all.

“Didn’t I tell you it would turn out fine?” Oli reprimanded, and Aaron rolled his eyes. Most of the time he hated being wrong, but in this circumstance he’ll accept that fact. If being wrong means they beat Chelsea, he’ll take that loss. Although every part of him was on high alert as his own mind reminded him that it was only one goal.

“We haven’t won yet,” he replied, speaking his own mind, something he rarely ever does. He keeps his thoughts in his head, but that was beginning to change.

Oli smiled, although his eyes were glued to the Tv as another Arsenal attack pushed forwards, and Aaron turned his head even though he didn’t want to. But as he did the cross went past and the goal went in and all at once Aaron could both breathe and die all in the same moment. He could hear Oli yelling but not the words he said as he stomach leapt and his legs led him to jumping up with Oli, the biggest grin he’d ever smiled locked onto his face.

The best part was seeing the way Oli reacted. His smile alone could cause wilting flowers to bloom in perfect reds and yellows, and his eyes sparkled as if they held stars, a swirling galaxy of emotion and Aaron was so grateful he was able to see that of pure happiness. Nothing could get better than this moment, as they continued to watch with baited breath, yelling at the referees together, feeling the same nerves crawling along their spines whenever Chelsea had possession. They were in perfect harmony and Aaron had never felt so connected to another person in his life.

It sent his mind into a frenzy, thoughts that threatened to overflow into words. He was living a dangerous life, teetering on the edge of admission, imagining all the ways it could go wrong and shrinking back into a shell of mismatched words. Never before has he simultaneously wanted someone to the point of it being an unsettling swell in the back of his mind and tried his hardest to avoid any part of the subject. He tried his best to keep out of contact with Oli, but when you’re living with someone in a small apartment, it wasn’t easy. It made him angry, it made him sad, it made him happy, it made him want to disappear. And yet here he was.

-

Aaron watched as Mesut ran the entire length of the pitch, breath caught in his through, hands gripping his own knees. He caught his lip between his teeth as the perfect pass was sent Alexis’ way, landing at his feet as Mesut ran across goal, unmarked. Aaron couldn’t hear anything but a low thrum in his ears as the cross was sent in, Mes hitting it awkwardly. And it’s not going in, surely not. Except it is and Aaron still can’t hear and still can’t think as he jumps up with Oli, grabbing his face with both hands and dragging him into a kiss. It was a spur of the moment action, completely accidental, Aaron was ready to spew out whatever apology would be necessary to keep Oli around.

Except Oli wraps a strong arm around Aaron’s waist, pulling him tightly against his chest, and suddenly Aaron can hear the cheers of the fans and feel Oli’s speeding heart and taste the beer Oli had been drinking moments earlier absorb onto his tongue like a disease, but god Aaron was fine with being infected. He felt Oli’s beard against his face, rough and scratchy and everything Aaron had dreamed, and he sighed in contempt as Oli pulled his bottom lip between his own teeth gently. The whole moment felt bigger than anything Aaron had ever experienced, yet in those minutes his mind was fuzzy and his fingertips grew numb and he was no longer thinking or feeling. All he knew was instinct so that’s what he acted upon.

His hands wrap into Oli’s hair, pulling him back harshly, although he didn’t seem to mind much. His hair was stiff under his fingers from hairspray he clogs it with every morning, but Aaron loves the way his fingers can firmly grip into it. He loved that he had finally allowed himself to do such a thing, too. The whistle blows for half time but Aaron barely hears it over the same ringing that hangs in his ears like baited words. He waits and breaths and smooths his tongue along the vein that was so apparent along Oli’s neck, causing him to groan lowly whilst Aaron smiles.

“I’m alright missing the second half,” a gasp as Aaron digs his teeth into the corner of his jaw, loving the taste of him that flood his mouth and all his other senses, “If you are,” he’s choking on words and Aaron loves the sound of it. He loves the sound of him already beginning to fall apart, similar to Chelsea’s squad, Aaron thought with a smirk. Of course, Oli was worth so much more to Aaron than Chelsea could ever do so.  

Aaron glanced at the Tv as commentators talked of Arsenal’s praises and for a second he’s tempted away, to continue watching just in case Arsenal score again, just in case they somehow don’t win and god his love for a football club has taken control of him too much in recent years. It’s when he turns back to Oli, eyes dark and cheeks flushed that Aaron snapped out of it before he made a fucking stupid decision.

Oli lets himself be shoved roughly into Aaron’s bedroom, stumbling to sit on the bed, where Aaron straddles his lap, kissing him until his lips are numb and blue. They move in unison and Aaron slides his lips down Oli’s now bare chest, which was smooth like silk, moving like water under his fingers, muscle rippling over ribs like waves across rocks as Aaron pushes him backwards to lay down, to explore these uncharted territories further.

He can hear his breath become one with Oli’s and the rustle of clothes as they land with a dull thud to the ground and, if he strains his ears, he can hear the white noise of a crowd cheering from his Tv. But for the first time in years he doesn’t care about football or his job or the people in his life who left him behind. He has this one moment to savour and never forget, explosions running along his veins and rupturing his bones to pieces as Oli’s moans penetrate the room. Aaron is nervous and he is in control and he bites his lip until it bleeds, but Oli laps away the blood considerately, leaving Aaron blushing and whining as his mind turns to a blissful mess of too many emotions and thoughts.

But he knows this is Heaven and he repeats the phrase ‘You’re a god’ because he can’t think of any other conclusion and Oli laughs until he can’t, because he breathes like he’s run a marathon and so does Aaron, his moans a praise to god himself as Aaron dedicates himself as the newest disciple.

-

Aaron wakes up each morning the same as how he’d fallen asleep, the same as he had for the last three weeks. Oli has his arms wrapped across Aaron’s stomach, hand pressed against skin like a burning heater and his whole body feels this same fire, torching his organs and setting his heart a light with this new kind of love as Oli has Aaron as close as he can to his own body.

As soon as the sunlight pierces the thin curtains that float delicately in the still warm October air Aaron is awake. It’s as if the light calls for him, beckoning him to be alive and be in love and everything is bright, a heavenly glow enveloping two people like a soft candle light reflecting off white walls. Delicate breathing is all Aaron can hear even as cars and people continuously bumble along the streets like the worker bees the whole world has become.

But Aaron doesn’t have to be awake, not yet. He lies still, enjoying everything and thinking of nothing. It’s a moment he never wants to end and yet he knows it will. He can feel heaviness in his heart just below the surface that congregates only simple, pure love. He doesn’t want anything to change and yet nothing is ever the same.

Oli wakes up every morning minutes after Aaron, squeezing him so tightly he can’t breathe as he brings himself into full consciousness. He wants this to last, to last forever, and forever to never die. He can’t imagine himself ever not missing this the instant it ends. Aaron turns around and Oli kisses his forehead and he can feel the shape being scorched into his forehead for another day.

Aaron loved mornings sometimes. He loved the warm light and the feelings he awoke to and these days he loved to hear himself breathing. He knew he was alive and he never wanted that to be destroyed.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I never knew i'd be able to write a fic that only takes place in 3 different rooms  
> 2\. Aaron is a power bottom case closed  
> 3\. If this fic was any longer it would've ended v sadly lmao  
> 4\. #bringbackblondaaron2k17  
> also this was kinda rushed cause i have my russian speaking exam on monday !!! pls wish me luck !!! i need it really badly !!!  
> anyway thank you all for reading as per usual i would appreciate any and all comments and kudos, my tumblr is fuck-football, and u will hopefully hear from me next month for the next instalment of these monthly prompts


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